the harlquinn
the visuals are important here. this is the memetic version of elvis, the one that's sold on tshirts across the world. the colors are more reminiscent of an old hand drawn poster than reality. it's as though an image tucked away in the corner of a bar in anywheresville, america has come to life, harry potter style.
the hairstyle and eye shadow, etc. remind me of the androgynous attractiveness of Desire in the sandman. at times i find it hard not to retroactively see the mannerisms of jim carey characters in elvis' facial expressions and movements. (probably they looked funny and unnatural to begin with--that was part of the magic.) this strange combination of associations furthers the sense that you're not looking at a regular human, but some other entity.
oh yeah and there's music too. this is what pop music could sound like when the majority of people in the US were just a generation or two removed from being hillbillies. now it's archaic, almost out of sync with the image of its performer. but really good and rollicking. a voice that has an undulating quality--the smooth, cartoony downward swoop of "you can do anything but stay off of my blue suede shoes".
bonus beats:
fragmented and transformed into a thousand new forms, all released in a single three minute explosion. roaring mechanical beasts to squealing cartoon chipmunks. sensory overload. at 1:16 elvis proper appears as a gibbering, statanic fool. hilarious and terrifying, but mostly the former. better than the original.